A Trail of Followers
by billffire
Summary: In another world Neville Longbottom was the Boy-Who-Lived. But, it would not be him who would be defeating the Dark Lord. That fate would still land upon Harry Potter's shoulder.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:: **This is something I thought up and hope many will enjoy. Below is something of an introduction to the universe I have in mind, a few changes here and there to liven it up. I hope people enjoy reading it. The prologue is a bit different, but I hope will help people ease into the Alternate Universe here.

It was strange how things that happen to someone can make all the difference in their life. For example, the death of one's parents leaves in them a sense of abandonment, betrayal, and perhaps resentment. Questions such as: why did they leave me? May run through a child's mind. For one whose parents were murdered it leaves an ache, a loss, a pit that must somehow be filled, especially when they have no guardians to that fill their needs.

A perfect example would be Harry Potter. Bereft in a muggle world left to be raised by his anti-magical guardians. This elicits many a sigh from most who learn of their nature, and many shake their heads when they learn that the one who put him their was their own guiding light, Albus Dumbledore. Of course, in the air of Voldemort's fall it was quite obvious a wonderful idea, seeing as the child's primary ability to _live _was far more important than the nature of his wellbeing. Of course, that is also debatable.

Harry was resilient in his youth, raised with so little love, actually none at all. He was not abused per se, but neglect can have a way of harming a child, especially when they become mal-nourished. Yet, despite all this he prevailed and went on to conquer basilisks at age twelve, grown wizards at age eleven, a dragon and maze at fourteen and dementors at age thirteen, close to a hundred.

And let us not forget that memorable time in the Department of Mysteries where he and his fellows held off a dozen dark wizards, whose abilities were not in question. True, they did not prevail in the end, but they held their own nonetheless. Startling feats for one so young, yes?

But what if the shoes were worn by another, the other child of prophecy, would not he be able to step forward and claim that spot just as a one Harry Potter was able to?

Neville Longbottom. A nervous wreck who came into his own bathing in the light of Harry Potter. Yet, in some worlds he survived. He grew and he conquered. Yet, he did not brighten those worlds as Harry had done the original. He darkened one such world with his weight and overbearance of attitude. Many looked to him with chilled regards for the way he walked, yet others tread behind his shoes licking the hems of his robes.

This is where our tale shall begin. Shall a brief jaunt down memory lane be required? I shall give a broadened history, for our story does not unfold until sixth year. At one year old, Neville's parents sacrificed themselves for him, leaving a scar upon his brow of a lightening bolt. Albus Dumbledore, feeling the old magic added his own dappling of arts and transferred the spell to his Grandmother, Augustus Longbottom.

From their the survivor became the light and breath of the wizarding world, much to Dumbledore's dismay. When cautioned this, Augustus breezed the old man from the boy's life. So when it was time to attend Hogwarts, everyone catered to the young boy and everyone wished to find him pleasant and heroic and smart. He was all this, save pleasant. He expected everyone to tread lightly with him. He expected many to hear his voice and obey.

The cycle had begun among his peers. When showed less than he thought he should be given he set about to teach the person a lesson. Over the range of five years, a number of his classmates had come to resent him, but the world as a whole still gobbled up every scrap of news they could about the boy who lead such a dangerous life.

In his first year he beat Quirrel and saved the stone. In the next he battled a Basilisk and defeated it without his magic, in the end saving a frail child's life and ending Voldemort's shadow. In his third it was calm save for an attempt on his housemate, Harry Potter. With a hundred dementors bearing down on the lad Neville conjured a Patronus to fend them off, until Dumbledore arrived to settle the cloaked demons.

None knew the true adventure through time the lad Harry Potter had traveled save himself and his godfather. But, that is later.

In the fourth year came Neville's admission to the Goblet of Fire where he drudged through the trials and in the end won the final cup, only to be sent to a dank graveyard where his blood was used to resurrect Lord Voldemort. In his fifth he was nearly tempted in entering the Department of Mysteries. When a vision came to him showing his Gran in trouble he almost rushed off with a small group behind, but with quick words from his Potion's Master, his tail and his friends was saved.

Now the implications of all this is obvious. Dumbledore is still losing his power and sway among the wizarding world while his Order of the Phoenix tries desperately to stem the tide of a now hidden war. Neville is still seen with awe and inspiration, despite the many lies filtering among the papers. He is still the Boy-who-lived. And, despite his arrogance, he is still a young, charismatic, and powerful wizard. Many despise him and many hate him.

And it is within this air that our tale unfolds about a young man whose own feats are unknown and unnoticed. The world remembers his tragedy, and look to him with pity. That young lad is named Harry Potter. Now, let our story commence.


	2. Chapter 2

A trail of followers, hands in pockets resting round wooden wands, walked behind Neville as he made his forward into the Great Hall. His head was turned slightly up, his eyes following downward the bridge of his nose. His wand was casually in his hands, and a smile played across his lips. His brown eyes took in the dinners heaped upon the table and students seated at many of them. Most met his stare and nodded civilly, while others dropped their gazes.

Neville peered at the professors dining this eve and they acknowledged his presence with benign eyes and nods. His favorite, Madam Sprout, was absent. He walked by the Slytherin table and had a quick duel of eyes with Draco Malfoy, but the latter looked away quickly as his eyes took in the four lads trailing behind the Boy-who-lived.

They gave the pale-haired boy menacing looks. Neville turned his attentions back to his own table and walked there with a purpose. His glances had caught something that he did not like seeing. Something he had worked five hard years at keeping from happening. There seated at his glorious Gryffindor Table were a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw. His smile slid away, and as he made for them he missed a few of the teachers growing tense.

Cedric Diggory was leaning over the table, looking at a magazine while Cho Chang was seated next him. They were engaged in a quiet conversation with their fellow Quidditch player about the starting line up of Puddlemere United. An old comrade of theirs was due to start in the first string for once. They were happy and pleased his career was beginning to take-off, pun intended. Cedric cast to Cho a warm smile as he and his fellow laughed at the joke.

The smiles melted away as a throat was cleared. Three pairs of eyes looked up and their expressions shifted. Cedric to a frown along with Cho's. Their companion, and owner of the magazine, gave Neville a guarded look.

"Good morning everyone." Neville said brightly, despite the scowling figures arraying themselves behind him. Cedric ignored them along with his companion, but Cho felt her hand itching for her wand.

"Morning, Neville." Cedric said with a strain.

"Neville." Cho spoke as well, emotion leaving her voice.

Neville turned to his bunkmate and waited for the polite response. Manners is one thing his Gran had always told him to uphold; something he expected from anyone.

Before him, seated and dressed in raggedy robes and faded clothing, was Harry Potter. The young lad returned the gaze and nodded before closing the magazine and addressing his friends again. "I'll talk to you guys later, okay?"

They nodded and looked to Neville. "Good-day." Cho echoed the sentiment and the two walked away quickly, casting nervous glances back towards their friend.

The Boy-who-lived sighed audibly and gave Harry a disparaging look. "I think I'll be eating dinner here today. Ron, will you be a pal and dine with your sister in my stead? Tell her I promise to make up for it tomorrow." He cast Ron a pleasant smile.

The tall red-haired Weasley gave the two a sour look, before nodding and walking away briskly. The three remaining members of his entourage knew what was coming next, it happened every so often around the Potter boy. None could understand why their Captain put up with so many of Harry's infractions, but they knew better than to voice their thoughts.

Neville spoke to them all and one by one expertly sent them on their own, either to speak with a professor about a certain topic or to go and enjoy the company of another. Without any mutterings Neville and Harry were alone. He plopped down next to Harry, his face a mask of disappointment. "Harry, why are you doing this me?" Silence stretched. "Well?" He pressed, becoming annoyed by the silence of his companion.

Harry stared down at his food, again caught in the guilty cycle this supposed savior pressed upon him. The so called life-debt he owed him. Memories flitted across his mind's scape. The two of them descending into the unknown risking their lives to stop Quirrel. Harry's wand firing hexes at a giant snake, while Neville crawled across it, Godric's sword in hand. His trials in time where he was saved by Neville. Neville coming to him amidst the accusing stares of his classmates seeking help with the Goblet of Fire. Then last term, the secret organization they had dubbed, Dumbledore's Army. The same club that was still on-going.

To Harry he hated the position he was in with Neville. It was not a friendship and both knew it, but they had history together, a past. With grudging ability they both had accepted that together they could do many things, accomplish much. But, since the Goblet of Fire Harry has been having doubts. A part of him was wanting to leave this negative relation behind. Last year it had started when he refused to accompany Neville to the Department of Mysteries. It was his refusal and their heated argument that had attracted Snape's attention.

Harry finally glanced away from his dinner, his green eyes meeting two judging brown ones. "I'm tired of putting up with you." He said simply.

Neville rolled his eyes. "And I'm tired of letting every one of your rude infractions pass. Already my friends are questioning me. I can't have that."

Harry shook his head, waiting for Neville to bring around the life-debt. This was their third such conversation since the beginning of the term three weeks ago. "Then just tell them how much of a help I've been."

"I have Harry. I've told them you've helped me." Neville tried making his tone reasonable.

Harry breathed, feeling embers beginning to burn within his mind. He was just so tired of dealing with the Boy-who-lived. "Tell them _all_ of it." He said with some venom.

Neville looked doubtful. "They'd never believe it, and you know it. And that is beside the point in the first place! We had a deal since I saved your life," He paused and gave Harry a significant look.

Harry waited for the guilt, but something instead came in its place. Anger. It wasn't fair for someone to hang this over his head, to control his actions just to keep him in place. The embers in his mind grew to a low flame.

Neville continued, lecturing with a well versed set of words. "You remember that deal, right? Where you would be nice to me, polite to me, and I would show you the same respect? Have I not been nice? Have I nice been cordial to you?" With Neville's tone it seemed the most obvious thing that his argument be swallowed.

Harry drew in a breath. "Yes, you have. You've politely asked me to curse half our classmates because you didn't want it traced back to you. You've cordially told me to watch out for Filch while you had your way with Ron's sister. You've respectfully copied off several of my homework assignments because you were too busy."

Neville drew his eyes together in anger. "You know my reasons for the homework. I was planning the DA lessons and oh you know….trying to stop Voldemort!"

Neither teen flinched. "And the rest?" Harry asked.

The Boy-who-lived shrugged his shoulders. "I admit I was selfish about Ginny, and I haven't done it since last term. And the cursing, that was for the greater good." He held his head aloft.

Harry looked away completely disgusted, realizing again why he wanted to sever ties with him. He could hardly stand him. He'd been barely bearable until he started training them, teaching them in the DA.

Neville grew angry at being ignored by his long-time fellow. They had been through a lot together and each should give the other their due respect. Out of curtesy he had protected Harry whenever his entourage which to teach him a lesson. Out of respect he allowed him to continue training with the DA. Now, though, he was being impossible. He shook his head sadly at what he was being forced to do.

Calmly he stood-up and withdrew his wand, placing it to his throat and said _sonorous._

Harry looked to him confused.

Neville ignored him and began to speak. "Everyone may I have your attention? I have some very startling news for you. Harry Potter," he gestured toward him, "has requested I tell you about his part in my travails. You know he has helped me in the past, but apparently he was not happy with just that claim to fame. He wished for specifics to be acknowledged."

Neville paused for dramatic effect.

"First year we descended and stopped Quirrel, together. Save I faced him alone and succeeded. Together we confronted the Basilisk! Of course, I was the one that killed it. Third year I saved him from a hundred Dementors! He…well…was crying for his mummy and daddy curled into a ball on the ground. Fourth year I came to him for help in the trials, but hearing it from him seams like he was the one that won each of them."

He gave a condescending smile which earned many snickers from across entire Great Hall. He then glanced to Harry and gave him a look that said; you brought this upon yourself. He in turn was greeted with furious green eyes. Neville ignored the look and continued.

"Last term I asked him to accompany me on an ill-fated trip. He turned me down after helping me _so_ _much_ in the past. Maybe, because he was finally giving in to his natural cowardice, perhaps? We all remember that time with the troll, right? Found him crawling away crying if I recall correctly."

He put on a beaming smile and radiated it outwards towards the chuckling student body. Some were pointing and others looked incredulous. How could such an upstart think to match Neville's exploits? Sure, he was a great Quidditch player, but catching a snitch and killing a basilisk were two very different things.

Harry's face was a cold thunderstorm as he accepted the many stares and laughing eyes. He poured all of his rage and anger into one malevolent stare before grabbing his bag and magazine and marched off.

Neville smiled sadly. It had to be done, though he regretted taking it to these extremes. He knew later his entourage would be congratulating him on finally reigning in 'that Potter.'

A vague voice filled the Great Hall's air. "Odd. Why were you downplaying all that he did? Does he not deserve some credit for helping?"

Neville's jaw dropped and he turned to stare at the person who possessed the strange voice. The person who would actually have enough guts to try and call him out in front of the entire school. He was quite shocked to see none other than Luna Lovegood. Her clothes were a mottled affair of colors and odd trinkets. Daggling from her ears were two radishes and setting off the ensemble was a necklace of butterbeer caps. Her hair was a straggly mess and her expression constantly surprised, but in those eyes lurked a hint of something righteous.

He easily recovered and answered back. "Now Looney, I just admitted to the school he helped me out. Are you seeing things in my words that aren't there? Perhaps something invisible that doesn't exist?"

There were guffaws of laughter and chuckles from the ones that knew of Luna's odd statements and sentiments. Others that did not still laughed, knowing that Neville had obviously said something very clever.

Luna opened her mouth to retort, Neville waiting, when another voice was heard.

"That will be quite enough ridicule for now, I think." Came McGonagal's severe voice. "This is a place where students eat, not orate." She cast them both a meaningful glare. They nodded their understanding and Neville sat down properly chastened, but he still wore winning smile. As one group his fellows descended upon him clapping him on the back and cheering.

"Bout time, Captain!" Ron exclaimed.

Neville smiled in spite of himself. Perhaps, this had been long overdue.

As he talked about future plans and homework, as well as Potter and Lovegood being kicked from the DA, he failed to notice four people leaving the Great Hall.

Cedric Diggory, his height matching Ron's own, but with broader shoulders. He had gray eyes with chestnut brown hair, and laugh lines arced around his eyes and mouth. To the women, he was very handsome. Behind him came his female companion Cho Chang.

She came to his shoulder in height and she was much more lithe and thin, though her muscles were more defined than most ladies her age. Black hair topped her crown and dark pupils lay in her eyes. They both shared the same year, this being their seventh, both were prefects and both were seekers.

The other was a short fellow with trimmed dark hair and a pale complexion. He was lean and went by the name of Dusty Desert, a seventh year Gryffindor.

The three met at the doors to the Great Hall and spoke in low tones before hurrying off to find their embarrassed friend.

A few moments after their passing a fourth figure left as well, her dirty blonde hair dancing behind her, two radish earrings flopping about to a beat only her feet could hear.

Cedric, Cho, and Dusty walked down the corridor with strong strides, searching empty rooms for their friend, but their search was going no where. Cedric halted and brought out his wand, with a few muttered words the wand suddenly pointed to the right. As they walked forward down the corridor the direction it pointed shifted. The spell pointed the direction Harry was in, going through stone walls. They navigated around the halls and stairs until finally they guessed the room he was in.

The wand pointed to it, but the obvious reason they knew he dwelt within was the small figure guarding the closed entry. He was three feet tall with enormous bulging eyes and a myriad of clothes on, including socks over his comical feet. His large eyes alighted to them and the tension left his shoulders. The small group approached, still slightly apprehensive; they were fully aware how protective Dobby was over his master.

"Hello Masters Diggory, Chang, and Desert. How can Dobby helps you all?" He bobbed his head.

Cho sighed. "Harry's in there, isn't he?"

Dobby looked both ways and whispered a little loudly. "I can't be saying yes or no. I was asked to watch the door and keep any 'pompous asses' from entering."

The door gave a sudden lurch.

Dobby ducked his head, looking red. "Dobby also put quiet-charms on room when Master Harry became loud."

They exchanged glances. One for Dobby's rabid loyalty, considering he was in actuality a freed house-elf. Two, because they feared what was happening with their companion inside the door.

Cho knelt before the worried elf and put a gentle hand on his head. "I think it'll be okay if we went in to see him, Dobby. We are his friends after all, right?"

Dobby nodded eagerly, clasping and unclasping his hands. "Yes, yes! Yous all have always been nice to Master Harry. Always." He gave another glance to the door, belying his nervousness even more. None had seen Harry is such a state before.

He clapped his hands and the door unlocked.

Rising Cho drew her wand along with Dusty and Cedric. Diggory went in first, wand readied for any reprisals and called out quickly. "It's us Harry! Hold off for a second!" Cedric had no idea what he was telling Harry to hold off from, but he was certain there was a lot of magic being cast within the room. As they entered the devastated classroom it was made even more apparent.

Where desks had once occupied were instead pieces and powders of woods. A large desk could be seen in the corner, slowly smoking from the dying embers wrapping around it. Purple and blue haze was in abundance as well as gray dust from where pieces of the walls had seen spells arced against them.

Harry was standing amidst it all, wand at his side heaving and sweating, his green eyes wild with strained emotions; his black hair slick and sticking against his head. He regarded them with a strong glance before giving a shuddering sigh, releasing the emotions that had held him taunt for the past few minutes.

Dusty wished to say a joke, but found under the circumstances it would not be very appropriate. Cho stepped over the various piles of wreckage and greeted Harry with a platonic embrace. Cedric was there too and eventually Dusty as well. Cho broke away after the young lad whispered. "Thanks."

He waved his wand and conjured for them some chairs. Once seated Harry looked distantly away, staring beyond all the carnage. The rest waited, knowing he would eventually speak his mind.

"I just couldn't take him anymore. I kept replaying all those years of us together, doing things. Me saving him so many times and he me." Anger crossed his eyes. "But he would only recognize that he saved my life that once. That all the others didn't count! That I was only in his debt! Did you know when we argued last year, when we got Snape's attention, that he kept shouting I owed him. That I _had_ to go with him. He practically threw the thing in my face!" His wand was out and quivering.

Cedric placed a calming hand on it. Harry visibly relaxed. "Mate, we're here for you. Alright. We know everything he's put you through and we get it."

Harry breathed a final sigh and let the growing fires within him dissipate.

Dusty spoke next. "How long you been keeping this bottled up?" He gave a significant look around him.

Harry laughed sheepishly. "Dunno, it just sort of came out of me."

Cho brought a finger to her mouth. "You missed Luna's calling him out." A mischievous smile spread across her Asianic features.

Harry looked forward surprised. "Really?"

She nodded. "She said something about downplaying your help and that you deserved some credit. I thought Neville had swallowed his toad Trevor by the way he reacted."

Harry's face became stoic. "How did he respond?"

Cedric spoke. "Said something about seeing invisible things in his words. He was a right ass about it to her. She would have said something else had McGonagal not interfered."

Dusty sighed. "This isn't going to end well for anyone is it?" He sounded defeated.

Three pairs of eyes looked to him in confusion.

He shrugged. "We all know how Neville is…and how you are." He said gesturing towards Cedric and Harry.

They still looked confused.

"Think about it. He just tried to put you in your place, something I already know you're not going put up with. He just called out Luna, but that won't be enough for him. He'll want to make sure she doesn't do it again. When he does do something you and Cedric will retaliate." Dusty finished sounding lame.

Cho shook her head. "Neville might not do it, he may thing her beneath his notice. Or he might send Ron or McLaggen. And what makes you think Harry and Cedric will want to fight back?" She sounded doubtful.

Harry and Cedric both exchanged weighted glances, things weighing in on them from the past bringing with it long buried guilts.

Dusty ignored their looks and plodded onward. "Because Harry won't let Neville keep him in line anymore."

Cho opened her mouth to respond, but Cedric spoke in her stead. "He's right." He sounded depressed as he spoke his buried secrets. "I should have done something before now. We all should have." He glanced to Harry.

Harry saw the cue. "Yeah, we should have, but we never did." He gave a ruthful laugh. "I'm even the one whose done most of Neville's dirty work." He sounded disgusted with himself.

"And I should have stopped you." Cedric put in. "It's just not fair for anyone to have that kind of control over the students. It's not right." Cedric said firmly.

Dusty smiled ruefully. "I told you Cho."

She looked down, understanding her boyfriend's and friend's points of view, but not liking where it would lead. "You do know this won't end well, right?" She hushed Dusty with a glance, who smiled as she mirrored his statement from earlier. "You'll be challenging him directly and he won't stand still until you've all been put back in your places."

Cedric shook his head in disagreement, his hand finding hers. "We won't be challenging him, just protecting people from him."

A set of green eyes smoldered with determination. "You'll be protecting them, I'll be challenging him. I've got years of pay back for him."

Dusty shrugged and looked away, slightly sad and slightly invigorated. For seven years he had passed through Hogwarts with very little attention upon himself. He looked to his left arm gloved hand and grimaced. With that addition the stares had been coming, the curiosity burning in stranger's eyes. Only the three present here had actually seen it. "I'm in." He said simply.

Cedric shook his head. "This isn't your fight. Or yours either." He said indicating Cho.

She drew herself up and crossed her arms. "Try and stop me from helping my boyfriend. I _dare_ you." Cedric winced at her tone. "I may not have the guilt trips you two do, but I'm your friend and you're going to need someone to watch your back if you're going to paint it with a red target."

Harry laughed and Cedric grinned. A ghost of a smile flitted across Dusty's features. "So what's the plan, Captain?" All eyes fell upon Harry.

Ron Weasley. Seamus Finnigan. Cormac McLaggen. Dean Thomas. They were the Entourage of Neville Longbottom. His most loyal supporters and friends. They had been his companions through it all, hearing him bemoan his lot in life, hearing him struggle with the burdens of fate. To the world they may have been flat characters of unquestioning obedience, but in the reality of their little clique, they had depth, character and emotions.

Ron Weasley was not comfortable to have Ginny _that_ comfortable with Neville, he even spoke out against their public displays. Neville, though irked, acquiesced and kept things private between himself and her. McLaggen was too proud to be anywhere else, and felt only at ease in the company of Neville. He knew none but these fellows could stand his boorish attitude and demanding voice.

Seamus was an Irish ball of anger, and fiercely loyal to any who despoiled Neville's name. It had been the Boy-who-lived that had sheltered Seamus his second year when many had thought him behind the attacks. Dean was by far the most questionable member, actively siding against Neville on many subjects, most dealing with his reprisals. It had been his idea to use Harry, not liking to have to do the deeds himself and not liking his friends doing them either.

These five were by habit the top of the social ladder, all due to Neville. Many from other houses flocked to them, for they excelled in most of their classes. Some ignored them or went about their business, not caring who was cool and who not. They passed the corridor with speed towards their main place of meet. The Room of Requirement. It was here within its private walls they discussed the future of their actions.

"I'm saying we won't be able to find anyone else. It's going to have to be us now Dean." Neville said placating the tall dark skinned teen. "I know you're not comfortable with it, but we have to remind our schoolmates that respecting one another and upholding politeness are essentials in life I will not have anyone skirting. People in life have places and lines they must not cross."

He stood and waved his arms passionately, showing them the emotion he felt about the subject he was preaching to them. "The professors are only worried about their rules and keeping the students safe, especially in times such as these. But, I can see otherwise in the cracks forming. People are feeling the pressure and when that happens society breaks apart. Just look at it earlier. Two other house members at our table! Two at once! A perfect example of things going wrong."

"So who else shall see these tears mended? Who else shall step forward and accept this burden if not us? Are we not qualified for it? Have we not been doing for years now?"

"Here here!" Cried McLaggen.

"Yeah!" Echoed Ron.

Dean looked away and Seamus echoed his friends glance, but not his disapproval.

"Alright then, it is settled. For your constitution Dean, I'll not have you participate. But, can I still count on you to defend us if people step too far from the boundaries?"

Dean nodded. "I'm still your man, Captain, I just don't like hurting people who…" He trailed away uncertain how they would see his thoughts. _People who don't deserve it._

"Good good." Neville said clapping his hands. "Now we must decide on what to do about this Loony character. I know she is batty and it shall be difficult to get our point across, but we shall succeed."

With that their discussions began. Dean looked introspective, not liking this one bit. He could lie to himself no longer, because now the burden was directly upon him. In the past it had been only indirect with Potter's hands painted and not his or his friends. Now, though, the guilt was assailing him and it was too difficult to push aside. He sighed quietly, unsure of his fellow's involvement in all this. None had Potter's experience or deft hand.

Over the next few weeks being Harry Potter became something of a trial. He had been, after all, Neville's personal agent acting in his voice to mete out punishments. Many had not reprised seeing him associated with Neville, but now that protection was gone and many who held grudges had acted on them. Including Draco Malfoy. If he had been observant he would have heard the whispers from others who had sought retribution. How they had failed utterly and in turn been again embarrassed. None had realized how quick with a spell Harry Potter actually was.

Five years he had been harassed and plagued by Neville's gofer, and finally an opportunity for revenge had come. He waited at the head of the stairs, malevolent slate eyes eagerly waiting. Flanking him were Crabbe and Goyle, his loyal bodyguards. Thoughts of his father assailed his mind, his advice running rampant. _Remember a jinx is to show them irritation, but a curse will show them fear._

Potter should be on his way, having received a false note saying Cho wanted to talk to him near Ravenclaw Tower. This was the easiest and quickest route he would take. Draco stood ready, his feet apart and tense and his wand before him. He had every advantage, and when the spell he would cast landed, then Harry would find it difficult to counter while he was ablaze.

Two figures rounded the bend and placed their feet onto the first step. Malfoy did not wait a moment longer than it took to confirm one was Harry, he knew his friends would eliminate the other. He motioned with his wand and shouted. "Incendio!"

Two pairs of eyes looked skyward in alarm and both reacted. Harry was drawing his wand and moving to the right, as Malfoy had anticipated and aimed the spell there. But, he did not foresee Dusty moving as well, throwing his left arm forward to shield Harry from the spell.

Harry's eyes widened in shock for a moment as the arm covering him instantly erupted into flames. Dusty pulled away thrashing his arm awkwardly, the glove covering his hand catching fire as well.

Draco stared wide-eyed and was soon rushing down the stairs casting Expelliarmus. Harry sidestepped and cast the banishing spell over Malfoy's head. The young Slytherin heard a grunt from behind him as Crabbe's body hit the stone wall he was banished into. Another spell escaped Harry's wand to strike the stairs beneath Draco. _Confringo_.

The stairs exploded in a display of dusts and chunks of rock, throwing both he and Goyle backwards up the stairs from the strength of the spell. Malfoy was dazed for a moment as his neck struck a step. He heard Goyle moaning in pain behind him. He tried to catch his breath and coughed some of the stone dust from his mouth.

Thought returned to him slowly and with a panic he realized what situation he was in. He had just set fire to Dusty's arm and Harry had looked pissed. He awkwardly began to get to his feet when a figure suddenly loomed within his sight.

He paled seeing the anger in those dark eyes as Dusty stood before him. Draco reacted quickly, but Harry's hand wrenched his wand from him. Then something reached for his collar and he jerked away at the foreign metallic object, until he realized it was attached to Dusty.

Most of the teen's uniformed sleeve had been burnt away revealing his new appendage. It was bone-thin and seemed to pivot awkwardly on ball joints at the elbow and wrist. Five skeletal fingers emanated from that wrist joint in mocking imitation of a human hand. It was with those metallic fingers that he caught Malfoy's collar and pulled him into the air.

Draco was horrified to have something like this touch him, and terrified to find Dusty holding him still for Harry's retribution; the former's green eyes blazing with anger. His words found Draco's ears. "Couldn't have used something less, could you? I guess I shouldn't expect something subtle from the son of a Death Eater."

Indignation crossed Draco's features, and he was rudely shaken by Dusty in response. Harry's wand found his nose, its tip glowing a baleful yellow.

"Any suggestions, Malfoy? I'm sure you know a few appropriate spells?" Harry asked, his tone anything but light. "No? Okay, I'll just have to get creative then."

Draco paled and his eyes widened when suddenly he was unceremoniously dropped back onto the steps. A pain hit his hip, but he ignored it, all his focus on Harry, who he found was wielding his own wand. His scheming mind already knew why, so any attempt Draco made at trying to seek a professor would look bad on him as well. Their brief altercation would pass under the teaching staff's noses.

"Crucio." Harry uttered, the strength of his words adding to its intensity.

Pain was all Draco knew. Everlasting and never-ending. It rebounded itself within his frame, wrecking his mental faculties as he tried to combat it. That defense was blown away by the searing waves of agony having their way with his system. He did not know he was writhing and jerking about, his body's automatic defense in trying to alleviate the torment. It was not working in the least.

After an eternity of thoughtless suffering, it finally ended, with a sweating teen panting from the exertions. He felt something light strike his chest. His wand. Harry's words barely registered with him. "Don't hurt my friends again, Draco."

* * *

**A/N:: ** Whelp, there's the first real chapter. I think I shall clear the air on Cedric, knowing many will probably point out the impossibility of him being at school, let alone alive. Neville reached the cup before anyone else, and was the only Hogwarts Champion. I think it better to trick a cup into choosing him than making it think there were three schools. I think that is truly Rowling's weakest plot explanation. As for him being at school still...I wanted the three team seekers together, so made Cedric born a year later, putting him in Cho's age. I'm sorry if this bothers anyone, but I really think he got shafted in the series. So, please review and tell me what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

Luna Lovegood, was currently bent at the waist, her upper body hidden within the refuge of a massive plant growing aside one of the school's stone walls. Her wand was before her face, alighting her search within the green leafy plant's innards using Lumos. From an outsider's perspective it seemed that the plant was glowing from her use of light in the post dusk air.

It was only by chance that Cho Chang was able to see the two figures creeping along side the castle while she was atop her broom. She was still the Ravenclaw's seeker and thus was known to spot movement quite easily, even in the dark. She spied two skulking figures making their way towards the lit plant; she knew from earlier observation just who was within said plant.

"Oh, I'm fine Cho, thank-you very much for asking. I'm only looking for friskies, apparently they like the spaces between a plant and stone wall. By daddy doesn't believe any are at Hogwarts, but I wanted to see for myself." Were the younger girl's exact words when Cho had asked what she had been doing.

Cho sailed a little higher into the air and silently made her way towards the two figures. As of now she had no confirmation of their identities, but she had a hunch. Carefully, she positioned herself above them and listened to their harsh whispers.

"Are you sure that's her?" Came a plaintive question.

"Of course, who else would be doing something like that?" Came a replied hiss.

"Alright already."

From their voices Cho knew them to be Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnigan. She narrowed her eyes. They were going to gang-up on Luna, something she felt they had little right to do. For a moment she wondered if this is how Cedric normally felt when defending the younger years. Ron's next statement sealed their fate in her eyes.

"Y'know, looking at her bending over makes her rear look right nice." Ron spoke with speculation.

Silence was his answer as Seamus leaned forward to inspect said derriere. "I have to agree with you on that one mate." Came his leering response.

Cho produced her wand. _Pigs._ A particularly mean hex came to mind. She decided she would be using it on Ron, considering his sister had been the one to show her it. With malicious glee she waited for them to creep closer.

Dean had his wand before him, its tip quivering with his nervousness. Ron's was the steadier of the two. They raised their wands and Cho's clear crisp voice filled their ears. _"Engorgis Mucus._"

They whipped their heads skyward with their eyes going wide with surprise. Ron pulled his wand around trying to counter, but failed as the sick looking spell struck him in the nose. Horror dominated his face as he felt his bogies come alive and struggle their way from his nostrils. Once free a few of them grew wings and quadrupled in size, fangs glistening in the faint moon light. He screamed in an unmanly manner as they attacked his face and ears.

Seamus was frozen in disgust, a half-thought spell on his lips, his wand pointed towards Cho, who was looking immensely pleased with herself. She then raised her wand and muttered the word: "Tarantallegra."

The blue spell struck Seamus in the chest and his legs reacted immediately, beginning to move without his approval in a discordant dance, jostling and jerking his hands about. One such violent lurch caused him to release his wand. His only verbal response was to begin yelling, as his prancing feet took him away from the wall.

With all the fuss happening it was no wonder that Luna Lovegood popped her head from within the bush and arched an eyebrow as Seamus danced away and Ron bolted from the scene; followed closely by three large angry mucus clusters. Cho noted the number and sighed, remembering Ginny had managed a dozen of them.

"Hello again Cho." Luna said brightly, obviously not in the least surprised by her two classmates antics. "Still flying this late at night?"

Cho beamed at what she had accomplished with such ease. "Yeah, I like flying alone at night, lets me clear my thoughts."

Luna nodded her understanding. "I s--"

Cho, sensing a warning about some fantastical beast coming, spoke quickly. "I already know Luna and I appreciate the warning, but I'm already got protection." She patted her empty pocket.

Luna's eyes began to twinkle with amusement as she cast them in the direction of Seamus and Ron. "I was going to say watch out for them in the future, considering who you just jinxed." She gave the embarrassed seeker a half smile.

Cho paled and felt horrible. "Er…yeah, right."

Luna chuckled, it sounding like chimes in the clear night. "But, I'm also glad you're prepared against Laughing Daffies." She spoke conversationally and turned to skip away, her hand waving Cho a good-bye. "Ta ta."

Cho sat ten feet in the air upon her broom completely flummoxed. "Laughing Daffies…?" She muttered. Could Luna have been making fun of her? Making a joke at her expense? She remembered that half-smile and twinkling eyes, but it being Looney Lovegood she just was not sure.

War was inevitable. Not exactly a bloody war, but a prank war. Save this one carried stronger undertones than ones of the past. Between rival teams there was a sense of aggression and passion, letting the hotblood push one's mind. In this one there was a chiller feel to, where cold logic was directing the hexes and in some cases curses. There was as well a finality to the situation, along with a dark undertone. And the opening shots were fired by two coordinated groups, banding together this once to show those trying to upset the balance their places.

The first group was Neville and his entourage, save for Dean Thomas who refused to participate in any way. The others frowned at his decision, but Neville respected it. The ones Neville chose an alliance with surprised his friends. He reached out towards Draco Malfoy and his circle of friends. Crabb, Goyle, Blaise, and Pansy. United they would break the ones who they felt had wronged them. In a single day they would strike.

In the late night meeting between the two groups they had listened raptly with attention as Draco, beyond furious, gave hints and tips to the naïve tricksters to be. Neville and his crew were inexperienced when it came to retribution, and thus listened as the Draco heir spoke of making sure this time they go one step further. To make sure they learn their lesson. As the four Gryffindors left the meeting Draco eyed his own followers and cast them a malevolent grin. "Here's what's really going to happen."

Luna Lovegood, Harry Potter, Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, and Dusty Desert. Their targets were set and had been chosen.

Cho Chang was speeding down the stairs, her bag flapping awkwardly behind her. Her friend Marrietta Edgecombe beside her, trying to keep up with her physically fit housemate. Snatches of their conversation could be heard as they descended. Unlike Cho Chang, Marrietta had never attended Dumbledore's Army, Cho having Cedric with her that first time.

Pansy smiled and waited until they passed her before jumping from her hiding place and crying: "_Impementia_."

Cho had just stepped onto the top of a flight of stairs when the spell hit. The result, her bag flew from her hands as she tripped and fell down, crying out in pain as her body struck stone time and time again. Marrietta whirled about to catch who had done it but was hit with: "_Expelliarmus_!"

Her wand disappeared from her hand as she was thrown down the stairs following her companion.

Pansy waited a moment and began to inhale and exhale quickly, making herself purposely short of breath. With the effect in place she put on her features a dismayed expression. She rushed down the stairs exclaiming. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! Are you alright? Say something!" She was panting and beside them each after racing down the stairs. "Stay here! I'll go get help!" She ran away acting frantic.

Ron had wanted either Luna or Cho, his embarrassment of the situation screaming at him for retribution. In the end he was handed Luna. He waited for an hour in the Great Hall until he saw her patting her stomach before standing and leaving at a sedate pace; a small smile forming on her lips.

Ron counted to ten and followed, his stride purposeful and determined. This loon was not going to slip past him again! He had consulted with Draco, seeing if he had any good suggestions. Most had proven darker than he could stomach, but Draco had provided something to satiate his need for vindication.

He trailed her for a few minutes until she left the building, deciding to venture onto the grounds on her free period. Ron smiled maliciously. _Perfect._

He waited for her to go beneath a tree, he had originally been going to use a ceiling fixture. He ran forward his wand raised and the spell leaving his lips. "_Incarcerous!"_

Luna whirled around, her hand going to her wand tucked behind her ear. She had managed a small motion when the spell struck and she was wrapped in ropes. Ron whooped aloud and ran to her, gloating.

Luna's face was passive, but a curiosity lurked in her silver eyes. "So you _were_ going to try and hex me that night, weren't you?"

Ron grinned. "Yep, had to show you who you were talking to."

She looked confused. "I was talking to Neville."

Ron sighed. Neville was right, she was batty and twice as dense. "Listen, the way you talked to him was impolite and such an infraction can't be stood. I mean, if you'd first talked to him nicely, then this wouldn't be happening."

Her face became guarded. "All I did was ask a question—"

"Oi now! None of that!" Ron exclaimed, ducking down to snatch a wand from her hands, where she had been trying to reach it. He straightened and glared at her, his temper rising. _Shove this rubbish!_ "Remember to blindfold her Weasley, it'll make it harder for her to guess where the next one'll come from, making her fear it more."

"_Obscuro_." Ron said and a blindfold appeared around Luna's eyes. He then muttered a levitation spell and hooked her into the tree by one of his ropes binding her.

"What are you doing, Ronald?" Luna asked calmly, swaying as she struggled with her predicament.

Her calm features irked him. _She should be panicking by now!_ He shot a stinging hex at her and listened to her cry out in alarm.

Her struggles intensified. "This is no longer funny, Ronald. I believe you are taking this prank too far."

"My name is Ron!" He cried sending two more hexes onto her prone form. She cried again in mingled shock and pain.

"Ronald, please stop this and let me down, I am no longer finding any amusement in this." Her voice sounded strained, but her calm attitude and reference to his full name drove him further into a rage.

"My." A stinging hex. "Name." Another." "Is." Another. "Ron!" He shouted sending another and another and another into her. He was panting and sweating from his anger, and was only now able to her strangled whimpers.

Instantly, he deflated, the anger rushing from him leaving only an empty space where it had once been. He trembled and looked to his hands, unbelieving what he had just done. With a strangled gulp of air he sprinted away, cursing himself for ever listening to a Malfoy.

He remembered Malfoy's look as well when he had told him what to do and how to do it. He had almost looked feral and mocking. Weasley wondered if Draco had known Ron would react his way. Had he told him how to do this just to set the redhaired young man up?

Ron angered again at the idea and he ran still more with Draco's mocking laughter driving him onward.

Crabbe and Goyle both knew they were not that smart or very good with many spells. They did know that, once you got a wizard's wand from them, they would be easy prey to a few strong punches. Something the two of them excelled at. That is why they had been chosen against Dusty. Because both would have been a liability against Cedric or Harry.

They waited remembering Malfoy's instructions. "Remember his arm is quick. Try and break it off for me. He'll deserve it. He should be getting out of Ancient Runes around one and heading for his tower. Nab him and pull him into a deserted room, grab his wand and then go to town."

Dusty had a new glove covering his hand, and a sleeve hid the rest of his arm. He came around the corner, waving with his human arm at someone in the distance. He called something to them before walking down the corridor at a quick jaunt. Goyle plowed into him, knocking them both to ground. He found Dusty's wand and wrenched it away, tossing it behind him knowing Crabbe would nab it.

He then hauled the shocked teen into the room where Goyle clipped him in the head. Dazed Dusty fell to the ground where they proceeded to kick him, cursing at him.

Goyle nodded to himself and shut the door. He popped his fingers and nodded across the way towards Crabbe. "You ready?" He grunted.

The large teen nodded, an eagerness shining in his eyes. "Yep. You hold him, I'll pull."

Goyle came forward and grabbed Dusty roughly and lifted him by the scruff of his neck. He attempted to put him into a head lock, but he suddenly felt a wrenching pain in his arm. He cried out and released him, seeing Dusty's imitation hand squeezing his arm. He jerked as the pain increased. He reacted and punched Dusty in the mouth. The hand let go and Dusty went back, falling into Crabbe's arms.

Dusty jerked and spun around, his left hand balled together and striking Crabbe in the jaw. There was a crack and Crabbe backed away, clutching his bleeding mouth. Goyle aimed a kick into Dusty's chest that connected and floored the thin youth. Dusty cursed aloud and grunted.

While down there Goyle sent another kick to his abdomen. Dusty suddenly retched in pain. Before Goyle could kick again, the artificial hand jerked out and gripped his leg like a vice.  
Goyle cursed but was unceremoniously pulled from his feet. He hit the ground on his shoulder, hard. Dusty stood on wary feet, trying to find a balance when Crabbe was upon him, wrestling and trying to take hold of the arm. He got it in a grip and tried to twist. To his dismay, he lacked the strength to do so. Dusty almost fell, but managed to jerk his arm away and out of Crabbe's clutches.

"Move!" Goyle shouted.

Crabbe looked up and literally hit the ground as he saw Goyle move his wand. "_Sectumsempra!"_ He called aloud, remembering the spell from his father.

Dusty stared with fascination and shock as the spell came forward. That expression died as he felt something slice through his shoulder. He screamed in pain as he heard his metal arm fall to the floor with a resounding clang. He fell to his knees in a haze of red and lose, his other hand going to the wound to stem the flow of blood.

He heard a door open and knew the two goons had fled. It took him a minute to situate his mind through the various pains across his body. From there he drew himself to his feet and struggled from the classroom, calling for help in a strained voice.

"I don't see it." Came a muffled voice.

"He has to have it somewhere around here." Came another voice followed by the sounds of ruffling clothes and small items striking a hard ground.

"I'm telling you, it's not here!"

"Come on, where could it be? He didn't take it into the shower with him!"

Cedric stepped out of the shower clad only in a towel tied around his waist, water running down his toned body. His hair was plastered to his face. In his dripping hand was held his wand. He stared at the two people before him with annoyance. "Yes, boneheads, I actually would carry it into the shower with me."

Two very shocked eyes regarded him. Before him was Seamus Finnigan and Cormac MgLaggen, their faces red and their wands held loosely in their grips. They shared a look and both said simultaneously. "Oh shit."

Cedric smirked. "Right, now tell me what you think you're doing before I start hexing the both of you."

They shared a look before speaking at once. "We were just supposed to teach you a quick lesson."

"Yeah, you know don't mess with us or something like that!"

Cedric sighed and shook his head. _Pathetic._

"Expelliarmus!"

The spell took Cedric by surprise and he was hurled backwards into the tiled stall, his wand leaving his hand. He clutched his head after having landed unceremoniously. He looked up and Draco Malfoy stepped into view. "Actually, Diggory, I'm the one whose going to be teaching you a lesson." He smiled. "And when I'm done, we're going to take care of your little pal, Potter."

Seamus stepped up now looking nervous, not liking the tone Malfoy had taken. McLaggen, though, looked more than ready to follow the Slytherin's lead.

Cedric's face became stony. He tried to lunge forward, but Draco laughed and cast _Crucio_. "Join in gentleman, I've never seen what multiple Crucio's do to a person." McLaggen cast the spell, with a strange glint in his eye. Seamus just looked ill and turned a way, as Cedric's cries of pain echoed dully throughout the prefect's bathroom.

***

Harry Potter was worried, his gut screaming at him to be on his guard. He did not know why he felt this way, but it had saved his life in the past, and whenever it came upon him he knew to heed its warnings and be prepared. In this such instance it would not help him in the least.

The sun was setting and he was on his way towards the library to meet with Hermione Granger for a project they were working on in Herbology. The only reason he was taking the NEWT class was because Neville had insisted, though now he was regretting it. He turned a corner and looked to see Seamus Finnigan talking with Blaise Zambini in hushed tones, their wands out and gripped. Neither had seen him as he backed away to hide behind the corner and think.

Harry's stomach dropped as seeing them together, on the lookout for someone, did not bode well with him. It did not take a quick mind to tell him they were waiting for him. He breathed slowly weighing the options in his mind. The two of them were no chance against him, and he would rather not be late due to how much this project was worth.

His more paranoid instincts told him Neville would be stupid enough to set two people to watch the corridor alone, but Malfoy would not be. He would have someone in hiding. He nodded with a grin. To avoid the whole thing he would just take the secret passage in this hallway and get to the library via a more indirect route.

Humming quietly he pulled on a piece of armor's arm and watched as the wall pulled away to reveal a shadowed corridor. He lit his wand with _lumos_ and entered it, not forgetting to step on one of the stones twice to close the door. He congratulated him at his clever tactic, again outsmarting the Slytherin.

Then he stopped in mid-step as light flooded the corridor from behind him, someone had opened the secret passage he had just closed. In stepped Seamus and Blaise, their wands pointed in his direction. They smirked and stopped. Seamus stepped on the stone twice and the door sealed all three in the corridor, Harry's wand the only illumination. A smile crawled up his face. "You're kidding, right?"

Seamus looked doubtful for a moment, but Blaise gave Harry a haughty look. "No, _we're_ not."

Harry caught the emphasis and his neck hairs stood on end. He quickly whirled around and light flooded the secret corridor again, showing him how Malfoy had outsmarted him. He was surrounded and alone, cut-off from anyone interfering. The pureblood git had known Harry would choose the secret passage.

Neville walked forward with a sure gait, almost a swagger; he was yet unaware of the lengths his fellow conspirators had gone, that knowledge would eventually humble him, but right now Harry Potter was ripe for his vindication. Stepping up next to him was Draco, the light had come from his wand and hovered above all their faces, his grin was almost sickeningly sweet.

Harry tensed and cast his eyes to the four wands trained on him. Seamus was passable in a duel, but Blaise was quick of hands and quick of mind, if not all that powerful. Neville was both good in a duel and had power, but was best when the odds were against him. Malfoy was strong and capable, but best when the odds were in his favor, like right now. All of this passed through his mind in the span of a second.

"You see now Potter the error of your ways?" Neville began, his tone condescending. "You couldn't leave well enough alone could you? Had to get your friends to stick their noses into my business. Had to finally speak out against me. I tried to protect you all these years…"

"Oh do shut-up, Longbottom." Blaise said with scorn. "I'm about ready to curse you instead of Potter at the rate you're going."

Seamus' wand hesitated from where it was pointed. He did not like people speaking out against Neville. Harry noted this and waited for an opportunity. What he missed was the looks passed between Malfoy and Blaise, hinting at this exchange as being planned between them.

Neville blustered and moved his wand towards Zambini and spoke righteously. "He must learn his place, just be glad our alliance protects you, or I'd have you learn yours, too." Harry had little doubt Neville could take Zambini.

Blaise scoffed. "Whatever. The others did not take near as long." His jibe was intended to remind Neville to mention Harry's friends.

Neville again rounded on Harry. "Alright, for the sake of speed, I'll tell you this alone Potter. Do not interfere with me again, or you and your friends will suffer more. Am I understood?"

"My friends?" Harry asked, the glowing embers within his mind now raging.

Neville smirked, and so did Malfoy, who stood waiting like a serpent readying to strike. He knew his only chance to nail Potter was if he attacked Neville first.

"Yes Harry, they have been taught a lesson, too. By now I'm sure they are well aware of their places and will think twice before striking out against me or my own again." Neville gave Harry a hard glare, himself unable to read the blank expression his once fellow was giving him.

Harry tensed, tossing his plan out the window as the anger or five years welled up within him and he sprang forward, brandishing his wand a spell of blue came hurling from it. Neville managed to react, but not quick enough as the spell struck him and he was blasted against a wall. From experience he was able to hold onto his wand as he next fell to the ground.

Malfoy fired his own disarming spell, but Harry dropped to the ground and avoided it. Panic entered Malfoy's mind instantly and he jumped away as Harry shot a spell his way. "_Incendio!" _Zambini cried as Seamus used a hair growing hex. Harry turned on the ground and came up onto his knees, his robes flashing to absorb the spells.

Hair and fire sprouted on him, and the flames grew catching the hair aflame. Harry waved his wand and a jet of water came shooting from it. With a quick arc the water smothered the flames and then he aimed its course at both the teens. They were hit in succession and blasted backwards from the pressure issuing forth from Harry's wand.

Harry then spun around, the water followed and aimed it for Malfoy. Draco had summoned a shield and was using it to block the water, but he had to buckle down and put his back into it. He turned his head, knowing Harry would notice, and shouted. "Now Longbottom!"

Harry's eyes sought Neville and only found confusion in his features to Draco's words. The lad was just getting bearings and standing up. Harry jerked his attention back towards Draco, realizing now the subterfuge he had fallen for. It was too late. A red jet struck Harry in the chest. His hand wand was emptied and the water stopped instantly. Draco caught the wand and smiled maliciously, his white teeth gleaming ferally.

"I think Longbottom, its time Harry learned his place." Draco raised Harry's wand and uttered: "Crucio."

Harry fell to the ground spasming.

"Zambini." Malfoy called heartlessly.

"Crucio." The dark-skinned boy intoned, his clothing wet.

Neville walked forward, his shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry Harry. I really am, but it's for the best." He glanced towards a wary looking Seamus. "C'mon Seamus, lets leave it to them."

The Irish teen nodded his head quickly and stepped around the writhing Harry Potter. As one the two turned their backs on their fellow housemate and left. As the left the secret corridor behind is when Harry howls of agony finally erupted from his lips.

**A/N::** Well, that's it for now. I've got a good idea where this is going, and it will include Horcruxes and Voldemort and a little romance as well. The pairing for Harry will be Luna Lovegood, I hope there aren't too many objections but I always wanted to write one with them together. There aren't too many, but there are some good ones. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. +).


	4. Chapter 4

Upon four beds were six bodies, more children than adults, but years from their once innocent times. One was currently sleeping peacefully, the shame and pain of the day before a nightmare to be brushed aside. Her name was Luna Lovegood, and her bright gray eyes were shut to the world around them.

Aside her were two more female bodies, their forms no longer looking beaten and wore, bloodied and bruised. Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe had been the victims of a horrible prank that had left them injured. They had yet to regain consciousness.

Following where they lay were the three form male teens. Two with dark hair and the third with brown. The first lad was currently unconscious, the shock of what happened to him more than he could bare. The trauma of again losing his arm had brought back painful memories of a summer long past. His name was Dusty Desert.

The other fellow, a seventh year as well was Cedric Diggory, a handsome lad with a striking jaw line and warm eyes. Those very orbs were shuttered to the world, trying to protect him from experiencing the pain he had been subjected to. And it was that fear that his mind was locked on that was preventing him from regaining consciousness.

The third lad was Harry Potter. A spry youth with emerald eyes and messy black hair. Madame Pomfrey was still trying to determine all that had been done to him, besides the obvious _Crucio _he had been subjected to. Already she had replaced the bones along his spine and repaired the damage to his eyes, but the scar along his chest gave her many worries. Only with Snape's intervention had that particular wound been healed.

Albus Dumbledore again swept his eyes across the prone figures, a great sadness reaching forward and grabbing hold of him. His heart had almost skipped a beat upon his return this morning, learning that in the span of a single afternoon six of his students had been assaulted. He withheld a sigh, finally coming to the conclusion that the war had finally trickled into Hogwart's halls.

He stepped away and left the Hospital Ward, his hand went to touch a painting as he stopped. He pulsed a bit of magic into it and sent with the figure within a message to take to Snape. It was past time to divulge to the other man his comings and goings. His blackened left hand clenched at the thought of leaving this world with so much uncompleted. Leaving Voldemort to run wild with none to oppose him.

He ambled along to his tower, taking several shortcuts so as to avoid any interruption from the other professors. He was truly in no mood to quibble with McGonagal at the moment of Draco's obvious involvement in the attacks. Of all the Slytherin's he was becoming quite the popular man in recruiting them young. Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle had all been snared by him. He idly wondered if Severus' opinion of Nott would hold. The lad was said to not the have constitution for the darker arts, but Snape may have forgotten to take into account peer pressure.

He arrived at his office with steady steps, the Gargoyle moving as he neared it. He took a seat within his comfortable chair and snatched a lemon drop from his candy jar. He savored its sweetly sour taste until Snape swept into the room, his black coal eyes livid. Dumbledore held up his hand to forestall the man's ranting. He would normally hear him out knowing the man needed to vent, but right now he was feeling too tired to ignore his biased views.

With a great sigh he righted himself and addressed his fellow. "I've already seen the students and know who the responsible parties are."

Snape's composure snapped back into place, realizing his pent emotions would need to find another outlet. He gave himself a final shake and nodded to the Headmaster curtly, showing him he was now listening.

Albus nodded benignly at Severus' effort, and continued to speak. "I felt Draco's magic lingering on both Cedric and Harry, while I felt Goyle's on Dusty. If Goyle was there it is no surprise to assume Crabbe was not far off."

Snape nodded, if he too had come to this same conclusion.

Albus sighed. "There is much more, and I find this quite disturbing. It was Ron Weasley who did those things to Luna Lovegood. His magic was very distinct amongst her own…odd magic." He smiled at that.

Snape's eyebrows rose in surprise and respect. To be honest he could not tell heads or tails trying to feel out the magic surrounding the dotty girl. It just again emphasized Albus' experience and more deft touch with these things.

"Now, take in this interesting observation and add to it what transpired in the Great Hall in my absence. Neville speaking out against Harry; something that has not occurred…ever."

Snape's head went to the left as he pondered the impacts of this. He already knew that the Headmaster's portraits were his eyes and ears into the everyday happenings of the castle so did not doubt how he came by this knowledge.

Albus then looked down, it suddenly seemed the years had caught up with him, and as if a flimsy veil hiding ugly lies within himself had been pushed aside, forcing him to see a terrible truth. "Logic tells me that with Ron's involvement, Neville was involved as well. Not just in the attack against Luna, but all of them."

Snape's placid features grew paler. The noble Boy-who-Lived had teamed up with Draco Malfoy. Regardless of the fact that he despised the arrogant child, the fate of the wizarding world rested on his shoulders, and this cooperation between him and the Malfoy heir could easily be a hint of a darker nature arising within the boy. This did not bode well at all. He was not going to insult Dumbledore's intelligence but asking if he were sure. Instead, he asked something more pertinent. "What are you going to do about this?"

Dumbledore nodded slowly, more to himself than Snape. "You are already aware of my intentions for you at the end of the year, correct?"

Snape's face became rigid. "Yes, I recall." He spat.

Dumbledore's eyes grew fierce. "You are not having second thoughts, are you?"

Snape met that harrowing look with one of his own. "No, I'll still do it, but do not expect me to accept it as easily as you."

Albus nodded in agreement, glad his friend was still willing. If he were to die, he wished to do it on his own terms.

A silence stretched between them, Albus reluctant to divulge his plans and suspicions to a man who dangled dangerously close to Voldemort, yet with Neville's recent failing coupled with his other flaws, he truly had no one else to turn to. "Horcruxes." He said finally.

Snape gave him a strange look before shock finally broke his permanent scowl. Then the pieces clicked into place. The quiet looks Voldemort had shared with Bellatrix and Luscious over a veiled subject. His references to going farther than anyone else. How he was not killed on that night so many years gone by. And then he realized the jeopardy this knowledge placed him in if Voldemort were ever to learn he knew. He took a few shaking steps and sat in a nearby chair. A glass was floating before him, filled with an amber liquid.

He took it gratefully, nodding to Dumbledore to continue. One word never explained everything from the aging professor. The Headmaster was not long in keeping him waiting as he went into avid detail his dealings with past people who had known Tom Riddle before Lord Voldemort. He explained his latest endeavor in finding Horace Slughorn. It had ended badly.

"Why Slughorn, what could he possibly know about it?"

"Because, the old professor was someone Riddle held in high esteem, and if there were to be anyone he asked this question to, it would be Horace. Alas though, Slughorn has finally met his end."

Snape swallowed, this was a killing he had not been made aware of. He could bet none of the Death Eaters would know of it. "There was no Mark?"

Albus shook his head. "It appears Horace had died of a simple heart-attack while trying to move his furniture again to another hiding place."

Snape snorted. "Voldemort learned subtlety?"

"I think he did not wish his followers to learn of the murder of someone that most of them at one point or another might have admired."

Snape nodded. "What do you think he knew?"

"I suspect he might have known a number, an amount that Tom would try to reach, for you see in all the books that are covered about them never is a number given beyond one." Albus said shrewdly.

Snape put his finger to his chin, he had wondered how many the Dark Lord would have made after Albus said the diary had been one. He sent his organized thoughts deep into his memories trying to associate a number with the Dark Lord. Seven. His eyes became alert as he began to think. Albus watched the subtle signs in his friend and remained quiet, knowing Snape was formulating something. He idly mused he probably should have asked the man's opinion earlier.

Rabastan, Rodolfus, Bellatrix, Luscious, himself, Antonin, and Avery. The seven lieutenants. Others examples played themselves out before his eyes. On many attacks they had struck on the seventh day or seventh month.

His eyes sought Dumbledore. "There are six of them." He took in a breath realizing that Voldemort had divided his soul into seven pieces.

Albus shook his head. "Seven. The night he attacked Neville Longbottom a piece of his soul became latched onto the lad."

"Do you think he suspects this?"

Albus shook his head. "I do no think he does, I believe he thinks it something left behind by his mother's protection and him having Neville's blood within his own. Of course, this also explains how they two are equal."

Snape gave him a wry look. "Please recall I'm not your equal when it comes to leaps of logic." There was a trace of sarcasm in his tone, saying he had recovered from the shocking news regarding Voldemort's soul.

Dumbledore nodded, a hint of a smile belying his face. "It is actually quite simple, Neville cannot die as long as Voldemort's soul resides within him. For how can his own soul pass on when there is another attached to it that cannot?"

The potion's master nodded and then broached the subject, realizing suddenly why Dumbledore had confided in him. "Neville's not up to the challenge, is he?"

Sadness engulfed he Headmaster's face. "Neville has been skirting the line of arrogant swagger and arrogant nature for five years. This incident proves beyond a shadow of doubt he has cast aside his youthful morals of right and wrong and embraced a philosophy where what he says is what is right."

Snape snorted. "Forgive me for not feeling depressed over this revelation, but I am in a position to tell you I told you so." There was a hard edge to his voice, and Albus did not care to respond, already knowing full well Snape's opinion.

Another awkward silence fell around them, one where Snape, out of respect to his Headmaster, did not gloat. He was just satisfied the old man had finally seen reason. Feeling that enough time had passed he raised his eyes and looked the Headmaster in the face. "What is it you want of me?" He knew his aid in this endeavor would mainly consist of what information he could get from other Death Eaters and maybe Lord Voldemort himself.

Albus cocked his head to the side, his solemn expression shifting to one of curiosity. "Severus, let me show what memories I have obtained, I believe your perspective may offer differing results than my own conclusions."

With that said he rose and gestured for Snape to do the same. Together they walked towards a cabinet full of glowing vials.

_

* * *

Let the child watch, I want her to hear his cries as she dies! I want her to know that her son will be at my mercy very soon._ A flash of red and Harry was upright in his hospital bed panting, a sheen of sweat was covering his body. It was the dream again, where he was a lad watching his maternal parent being tortured. His father had already died prior to them abusing his mother. He had watched, only two years old at the time, as her broken body had slowly crawled towards him. Eventually she had reached him and sheltered him as Aurors battled Death Eaters. When the cavalry had come to check on him, his mother had already died.

He had not cried since watching the brilliant light had left her shimmering green eyes.

It had been a long time since he had suffered from the dream. His first impulse was to write to his guardian, Lupin, but when he glanced around he noted where he was. His mind provided the details of his last stint with consciousness. Hate boiled through his veins. Rage came next, with a strong determination following thereafter.

He was shaking in the night light, as he saw the moon's rays filling the dark room. He tried to control his breathing, but it was too strong, the memories too fresh and the similarities too haunting. He had been powerless then to protect his mother and he had been powerless then to protect his friends. Of the torture he had endured, he felt nothing but the various aches and pains about his body.

From Malfoy's own voice he recalled how the blond demon had hurt and set-up each of his companions. How Dusty's arm had been severed and how he had made Cedric scream. How Cho had fallen with her bratty friend. And how Luna had been trussed up and humiliated. With a jerk he glanced to the left and saw their still forms laid on beds. To him they seemed dead and too still.

He shook with wanting to scream so loud. He wanted to make his throat raw and bloody from the pent-up emotions churning to be released. He yearned to channel this red hatred right down Malfoy's gullet. He felt a sharp pain in his hands and realized his finger nails had drawn blood from how much he had clenched his hands.

He was not sure how long he watched the blood leak from his unfurled palms, but it had a somewhat calming effect on him, allowing his mind to focus elsewhere than the dark place it wished to bask in. It was in this strange trance, caught between the boiling and seething anger and the fascination of watching the blood leave his body that a gentle hand touched his shoulder.

He jerked away and groped for a wand that was not near. His next instinct was to summon for it just as his eyes were taking in who had disturbed him. His wand was in his hand, but any intentions of using it left as he regarded the loony character before him.

Her eyes seemed to shine in the light of the moon, and her skin was pale and her hair a deep blonde, contrasting to the silvers and grays cast about the room. The dirty color of her locks made her seem real and solid.

He breathed slowly, trying to contain the mania still threatening to overwhelm him. She peered at him with cautious eyes. She looked down to his hands and then back to him. Her mouth tightened. Then with a sigh she sat upon his bed and began to talk, looking out towards a window. "I was nine when me Mum died. I was very lonely afterwards, you see she was a bright witch…and she did like to experiment." She cast her eyes downward, trying to bring some sense to the words spilling out from her. "My father hasn't been the same since…nor have I." She added in a whisper.

Harry was only dumbfounded, not completely sure if this were actually real or happening. The pain in his hands told him it was real.

"People like to call me Looney Lovegood, you know. That's only because they don't understand, or see things the way I do. Many people humor me when I tell them to watch out for a magical creature or beware of a plant." There was a long pause, allowing Harry to digest her words. To feel for the teen-child before him. To maybe connect on some level?

He was too tired and confused to fully grasp the whys of how he was feeling or to grasp what she was telling him. The only thing for sure, was that it made him sad to watch her speak this way.

She continued, her voice sounding now more accepting. "I sometimes wonder that if I change myself would more people call me friend, or not laugh so often at me?" She looked to her small hands. "I like who I am and I like the way I look at things. I like to believe that nargles can exist and that a crumpled-horned snorkack can one day be found. I will not doubt until I see that they cannot be found." There was a more confident tone in her voice now. Acceptance.

Then it fell. She turned to him finally. "I don't have very many friends, Harry, and most people don't look out for me." She brought a hand forward and gripped his, he tried to take it away knowing the blood would get on her, but she was persistent. Hand firmly in her grasp she smiled at him, a vagueness entering her eyes. "You looked out for me last year, and I was happy you did."

He recalled several incidences where someone had spoken to her badly during a D.A. meeting and he had stopped them. He remembered other times where she was left looking for a partner. He opened his mouth to speak, but found his throat had constricted, making it difficult to orate.

She went-on seeming oblivious to his struggle to talk. "I was…" A shadow crossed her face. "I was left up there for a time and students would walk by, thinking I had done it to myself. A few threw rocks I think, or maybe it was Gulitids. No, I think it was students. A cried some…" She whispered. A moment passed as she found her voice again. "Professor Sprout was kind enough to bring me down finally."

Her tone had been light, but her voice had wavered a number of times, belying her calm acceptance of the cruel prank; she had been deeply affected by it and wished not to let it show.

She looked at him and spoke calmly now, self control reasserted. "I was punished for sticking-up for you." She put a heavy emphasis on the last word.

Harry did not know what to say, or how to say it. Did she blame him? He did not feel guilty, but he felt angry, very angry. It recalled to him his reaction to Malfoy and in a flash the fury and the aversion was upon him again, the fires stoking strong and fiercely within him. The billowing determination came again and he knew with certainty that they would all pay. Faces blinked before his mind's eye, names applying to them. Ron. Seamus. Dean. Cormac. Neville. Blaise. Crabbe. Goyle. Draco.

An intake of breath from Luna startled him for a moment and he saw his hand gripping hers like a vise. He hastily let go and noticed how much blood he had left on her palm. The turmoil within him subsided, replaced by guilt at harming her and for not being more aware. He chalked it up to being so late and him still fairly tired.

Luna gave herself a shake and forced her hand to grip his again. He was careful now not to squeeze so hard.

Her voice filled his ears. "Harry, what I…had done to me I would have it done again."

Harry was confused and it showed upon his features.

Luna frowned, seeking to put into words the not yet familiar feeling she was experiencing. "I do not regret speaking out against Neville, and would still do it again, regardless."

Her intent was still not very clear, but there were enough hints for Harry to piece together what she had been struggling to say.

He smiled at her, and in a moment the fires abated within him. The loss of his mother, the near loss of his friends, and him not being in control left his mind at the simple meaning Luna had been trying to convey the entire time.

Harry gave her hand a squeeze and spoke, the words coming out easily and clearly. "That's what friends do."

It was the right thing to say because her eyes seemed to truly focus on him for once and a smile alighted her face. He smiled in return and felt the weight of exhaustion and potions pulling at his consciousness. With the fires gone he could no longer truly hold the heavy feeling of sleep at bay. He leaned gently back against his pillow and soundly fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N:: **Well, I got quite a response from this being posted...and was pleasantly surprised by it. Some good and some bad. To those who wish original spells and such...I usually just write what I can but feel that I must use canon spells to make it seem the world is plausible, or at least a mirror. For those that don't think I know where this is going...they are absolutely right. I have no idea what will happen next because I do not have the entire plot mapped out down to the merest detail. I do, though, have a general outline as to where this is going. To those dying to know...Harry versus Voldemort. Quite simple. of course lots happens between now and then. =). Hope you enjoyed the above. Review if you will on critic and whatnot.


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